Ignition: a Star Wars Story
by BenihanaSurgeon
Summary: A childhood discovery changed D'nia Oroh's life forever. Now a young treasure hunter, Weram Vaair, is sifting through the ancient ruins on D'nia's homeworld and stirring up old memories. But when the Empire begins to take notice of what they uncover, D'nia will have to overcome her past to survive.
1. Prologue

The ground almost seemed to lurch under young D'nia's feet as the thunder crashed again. Her mother had warned her she'd be caught in a storm if she strayed too far. But D'nia had nearly reached her destination. A few swift, splashing footsteps brought her to the mouth of a cave.

The cave seemed to have formed from two flat slabs of dark rock that must have once jutted vertically from the grassy hills of D'nia's homeworld. Some ancient and auspicious calamity had apparently caused them to fall into each other at just the right angle to create a shallow, but thankfully dry, hollow.

D'nia hurried into the shelter of the overhanging stones. She turned to regard the storm, but the torrent had soaked her light summer clothing. As another bolt of lightning forked down from the roiling clouds D'nia suppressed a shiver. Her rain-soaked skin and lack of shoes compelled her to move to the rear of the cave in hopes that the calmer air might be less chilling.

Thunder echoed along the angular stone walls as D'nia made her way in. She steadied herself against the side of the cave. The dim light from the mouth of the cave was starting to fail as she delved further inside.

_Odd_, D'nia thought, _didn't look like the hollow was this long from the outside_.

The air had definitely changed from the damp gusts near the cave entrance, though she thought she could still hear the wind howling outside. The dirt floor had given way to the same dark stone of the cavern walls when D'nia noticed it. Her fingers brushed against a rough patch in the otherwise smooth stone.

"That's strange," she said aloud, surprising herself. "But the edges of this patch meet at right angles. It can't be natural." She pressed against the patch of rough stone, probing at the edges with her fingers, when it suddenly slid away revealing a small alcove with a recessed button which began to flash white.

D'nia pressed the button, which now shone a solid white light but did little else. Her eyebrows drew together in puzzlement when a flash of inspiration struck. She dashed to the opposite wall, brushing her hands over the stone frantically.

"Ah hah!" D'nia exclaimed, as she pressed against a rough surface identical to the one on the opposite wall. It too slid away to reveal a flashing white button. D'nia eagerly pressed this one, thrilled by her discovery. Both buttons briefly flashed green then faded, with both alcoves sliding closed with a snap. All was still for a minute. Then a moment. Then several long moments. D'nia's euphoria had begun to fade when the floor started moving, the sound of stone grinding against stone filling the cavern. When the floor stopped, a set of shallow stairs led down deeper below the surface.

D'nia crept forward gingerly, feeling her way down the stairs with her bare feet. She had begun to keenly regret the absence of a light source when dim white lights activated along the staircase where the floor met the walls. Emboldened, D'nia raced down the stairs. The descending corridor suddenly widened out into a room the light from the stairway failed to illuminate. A light from high overhead shone brightly as D'nia stepped into the room. Across from the stairway was a large metal door in a solid stone archway. With no obvious knob or mechanism to operate the door, D'nia turned her head to survey the rest of the room.

Several crates and boxes were stacked to the right of the door, as if this were some kind of subterranean loading dock. Her eyes were drawn to a similar arraignment on the left, except there was also a high backed chair, which was occupied.

D'nia screamed.

She had already crossed back to the right side of the room and dove behind the crates when she realized the chair's occupant hadn't moved. As she regarded the slack-jawed skeleton in the other chair she decided he probably hadn't moved in ages. She wasn't sure how she knew the skeleton was a he, but as she approached, she decided it must be true. The tattered robes he was wearing might have once been brown, but they had decayed greatly. They'd probably disintegrate with a breath she thought dismissively, until her eyes fell upon the adjacent table.

"No way!" D'nia said incredulously. She dashed over to the table and chair, skeleton forgotten as her hand closed over the cylindrical object resting on the table. She lifted it up reverently, but her eyes betrayed her delight as she pressed the activator.

D'nia grinned, her face illuminated in the fierce amber glow of the lightsaber.

Over the electrical hum, D'nia heard an alarm begin to sound. Faintly at first but with growing volume. That's not what happened, she thought to herself.

D'nia bolted awake. Eyes adjusting to the dim morning light as she slapped absently at her alarm.

The same dream again. Every day for the last ten years. A vision of her discovery, from the day before her twelfth birthday.

The day before the Galactic Empire took everything from her.


	2. Chapter 1

_Tap tap tap._

P-0's feet clinked as it stepped onto the catwalk. It trained it's single optics sensor on it's target, a data terminal overlooking the hangar. Once sighted, P-0 took off at a dead sprint.

"No! You're supposed to stay quiet!" Weram Vaair hissed through the comm channel.

The droid tried to stop abruptly, instead tumbling over and skidding along the catwalk on its domed headplate. It's parcel, a data spike, clanged directly into the terminal's durasteel pedestal with a hollow thud followed by the much louder thud made by P-0's collision.

The young Devaronian winced as rust snowed down on her from the reverberating catwalk. She offered a silent prayer to any deities that might be listening that she remain undiscovered.

P-0 sprung upward and righted itself, reclaiming the data spike.

"Quietly!" Weram implored.

P-0 instead took the data spike in both of it's grips and slammed it into the terminal's data port like a smashball player. The droid clasped it's grips before it triumphantly and turned a circuit on the catwalk, accepting imaginary applause for it's feat.

Weram rubbed at her face, then stiffened. She tiptoed toward the canopy of the speeder she was hiding behind and checked her reflection. Sure enough, she'd dislodged one of the synth decals she was wearing over her vestigial horns. She replaced the decal delicately, trying to avoid smudging the make-up that muted her usually intense pink complexion. Weram was confident she could sneak onboard the transport if all else failed, but uploading phony credentials into the passenger registry was easier. Easier still if she actually looked like the ident she uploaded.

Weram straightened the hood covering her long, pointed ears. Once again satisfied that she could pass for human, she returned her attention to her droid.

The data spike had sunk completely into the terminal port, indicating that it's payload had been delivered. P-0 reached toward the spike with it's arm and retracted it's clasp, revealing a modified interface port. The former pit droid connected to the spike and activated the comm channel, allowing Weram to access the terminal from her datapad.

"Good work P-0," Weram whispered. She thumbed through the terminal's directories until she got to the passenger registry. Once she confirmed that her uploaded ident was present, she accessed the cargo manifest.

"Let's see if there's anything useful here…"

She scrolled through the list quickly. "Luggage, luggage, luggage. I'm gonna look like a Wookie at a tea party if the other passengers are all this boring." Suddenly she smiled, pointed teeth glinting with the reflected light of her datapad. "Ooh, explosives aren't boring." She noted the location of the container in the cargo bay. "Surely the Empire doesn't need awholecrate of those."

_All passengers for Transport OXU-11712 to Phorna Minoris please submit yourself for final security inspection before boarding._

"Time to go," Weram said, as much to herself as to her droid. P-O removed the data spike from the terminal, brandishing it like a sword. "I said time to go! Quit fooling around!" she stage whispered, patience thinning.

P-0 brought the spike before his optic sensor in mock-salute, then clambered toward the access ladder and slid down. The droid approached it's master and offered the data spike. Weram reclaimed the spike and rapped her knuckles against P-0's optic sensor in one fluid motion, causing the former pit droid to recoil into it's standby configuration. Glancing furtively, she snapped the spike in half. It has done it's job, and she couldn't afford to be caught with it. Fixing the diminished droid to her belt clip, Weram stood. She shouldered her pack, everything she owned, and joined the queue to board.

To leave the only home she had ever known.

* * *

The line to the security checkpoint was crowded. It moved through the stanchions slowly but inexorably. Weram tried to appear unremarkable, fixing her face into an expression of what she thought was casual disinterest. She soon realized she needn't have bothered. Several humans jostled one another for position in the queue. A Sullustan drummed his fingers impatiently on his bag. A woman argued with the security agent that she needed her bag in the passenger compartment while using it and her own body to prevent her screaming children from inflicting harm on one another. An Ithorian, annoyed at the three unit liquid size limit on board, consumed a 40 unit container of what appeared to be _coolant_ to the revulsion of all witnesses.

Weram was so absorbed in the spectacle of sentient traffic that she was startled to find herself at the checkpoint.

"Name, citizen," the agent droned.

"Talmadge Almora," Weram replied.

"Almora, Almora… Ah, I see it." The Imperial said, opening the passenger entry on his datapad. The agent peered at Weram's face, then held up the datapad. "Say, are you well, citizen?"

"Am. Wha. Um. Pardon?" Weram sputtered.

"Well." The Imperial repeated, already beckoning for the scanning team. "You look… _Ill_."

Weram stiffened. _Must have done more damage to my disguise than I thought_. "It, it's just a skin condition," she replied affecting indignation.

"I must insist, citizen. I cannot allow you aboard if you are harboring pathogens," the agent intoned solemnly.

Weram bristled, preparing to make a break for the transport when she felt something jab her arm. She wheeled toward her assailant only to be greeted by the gleaming white armor of an Imperial Stormtrooper. Weram bit back her retort, but the trooper took no notice as he ejected the test probe from the scanning device. "She's clear, ma'am. No pathogens," the trooper confirmed.

"Ah, you see? Now you may board, quickly though, if you don't mind."

Weram fumed at the Imperial, her indignation no longer feigned as she stomped up the gangplank to the transport. Once aboard, she quickly found her seat. Throwing her pack down onto the floor she collapsed onto the worn foam and synth upholstery. Eyes closed and head reclined, Weram tried to ignore the safety holo and the din of her fellow passengers. She only opened her eyes again once she heard the thrusters fire.

* * *

A haggard looking woman dashed into the spaceport as the transport launched. The color drained from her pink face and her dark hair swayed as she sat suddenly on the hangar floor. She continued to stare after the craft as it lanced through the sky, staying seated on the floor long after it faded from view.

* * *

Weram placed her hand on the transparisteel viewport. Objects on the ground had already become indistinct as the transport climbed. She sat with her hand still on the viewport as the planet dwindled away. Her hand fell away after the hyperdrive engaged. Weram sank into her seat, her head bent low, and heaved great, wracking sobs until she fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 2

Phorna Prime loomed large in the sky as D'nia watched the system's white sun crest over the horizon. The umbra that separated Phorna Prime's roiling day side from it's night side stood nearly perpendicular to the horizon, bisecting the gas giant. But the planet was massive, nearly a brown dwarf, and the night side seethed with a sullen light of it's own. It cast an eerie pall over the otherwise crystaline dawn.

It was a Red Year on D'nia's homeworld. Once every seven years the two planets would draw close and the gas giant would hang in the pristine sky of Phorna Minoris like an angry red carbuncle. For three seasons it would bathe it's sibling in inky crimson light that pulls water from the oceans into the air, causing a planet-wide torrent as Phorna Prime grows distant and releases it's grip.

D'nia eased off the throttle as her hover-skiff entered the bazaar of Hon Manowa. The stilted permanent structures of the city lacked the capacity to serve the sudden influx of miners and prospectors that had flocked to the system, so a sizeable district of prefab buildings and temporary stalls had grown like a fungus between it and the massive spaceport. D'nia found an empty space along the main thoroughfare and parked her skiff. She eyed the transport that was arcing toward the landing platforms as she set up her stall.

* * *

_Welcome to Phorna Minoris. Local time is 06:55. All passengers, please remain in your seats as we prepare to dock._

Weram pressed on P-0'S optics sensor, waking it from standby mode. P-0 scanned it's surroundings then immediately dropped to the floor, clawing at it's feet.

"_Stopstopstopstop_! Stoooop!" Weram whispered. "It's supposed to be there!"

P-0 regarded her inquisitively.

"It's insulating foam," she said, "to help you stay quiet."

P-0 whirred and beeped insolently.

"Oh, right, because you were _sooo_ stealthy on your last mission," Weram said, patting her hands together in mock-applause.

P-0 hung it's head and turned away, beeping sadly.

"Ok, fine. I guess you did still accomplish the mission," Weram said.

P-0 perked up, dancing toward it's pink-skinned master.

Weram raised a finger, "But it was in _spite_ of all the noise you made. You could have gotten us caught! The foam stays, end of story."

P-0 nodded, still shifting it's weight from one foot to the other.

"Good." Weram said, satisfied the matter was settled. "Now, you remember that crate full of explosives?"

P-0 nodded again, more eagerly this time.

"Great! Here's what you're gonna do..."

* * *

D'nia watched the crowd as it emerged from the spaceport complex into the bazaar. The newly discovered spice vein on Phorna drew a great deal of people looking for work, either with the mining company extracting the spice or with the pharmacological corporation refining it. Uniformed representatives from both employers drew the migrants off one by one, forming two milling crowds separate from the main swarm.

The bulk of migrants, however, were prospectors. After all, one new spice vein could mean more, right? These people were gamblers, willing to bet the promise of steady work, their personal savings, sometimes even their lives on the slim hope that they might find a fortune in the ground of an alien world.

It was with these daring souls that D'nia saw opportunity.

"Hey, heading out right away?" D'nia called to a prospector walking by himself.

"That's right," replied a scarred Dresselian. "Not gonna let this rabble beat me to the big haul!"

"You need a guide then," she said matter-of-factly.

The prospector's eyes widened. "Will I now?"

D'nia nodded solemnly. "Frontier is no place for a lone prospector."

The Dresselian prospector guffawed. "And who is it that's guiding you?"

"I also offer tracking chits for sale," D'nia said pleasantly through gritted teeth. She held up the chit so the prospector could see.

"So you can find me and come to my rescue, brave hero?" He said cheekily.

"Heroine," D'nia corrected, bristling "And no, it's so I can retrieve your remains from whatever lorkrok nest you end up in."

The prospector gave D'nia a dark look and stormed off.

_Auspicious beginning_ D'nia chided herself. She pocketed the chit and rubbed her temples. At some point she was going to need to think of a way to sell the tracking chits without driving off her customers. She was considering how to allude to gruesome death more tactfully when her reverie was interrupted.

Two uniformed Imperials were shouting their way through the crowd. D'nia realized the Imperials were heading straight for her when something crashed into her.

D'nia had just begun to right herself when she caught sight of a dome-headed bipedal droid trying to crawl under her skiff.

"Hey!" D'nia cried. She reached for the droid but a large boot appeared in front of her face. The man it belonged to stooped, bracing himself on D'nia's skiff with one thick-fingered hand while grasping the squirming droid with the other.

D'nia instantly bolted upright, fury storming over her face.

"Thought I told you not to touch my skiff again, Abero!"

Abero Kaine dusted himself off as he stood. He stroked his square jaw thoughtfully then grinned.

"And I remember it wasn't my fault. Those stabilizers were coming off. I can't help that you fly a nerf patty instead of a proper speeder."

Abero smiled roguishly, "besides, Nia, didn't figure you were the type to harbor fugitives." He waggled the struggling droid at her.

In lieu of a retort, D'nia simply pressed the droid's optics sensor, snapping it closed onto Abero's hand.

The big man yowled, sputtering curses. He had just extracted his fingers from the droid when the Imperial agents arrived.

"Give us that thieving droid at once!" The Imperial panted, still heaving from their pursuit.

"Fear not, officers," Abero said, once again debonair. "Abero Kaine, gentleman adventurer, has captured your droid."

The agents started forward when Abero continued. "Oh, no need for accolades," he said as he began to wave his other hand vaguely, eyes twinkling, "credits will do fine."

A second agent, obviously in charge, stepped forward. "We care nothing for this... thing. Where are the det-" he trailed off. "The er, supplies it's stolen?"

Abero sputtered for a few seconds, frustrated by the sudden reversal of fortune when D'nia interjected.

"Are you sure this is the droid you're looking for? I didn't see him carrying anything when he crashed into me."

The Imperials seemed suddenly less sure of themselves. "Are we sure this is the droid we're looking for, captain?" the junior officer repeated tonelessly. The captain wavered, a reply caught in his mouth.

"There are several models of these DUM series droids. Maybe it was a different one?" D'nia suggested.

At this the captain snapped back to attention. "I believe you're right, citizen." He turned. "Corporal, gather a scanning crew and see if you can locate our missing explo- that is to say, our missing supplies. I'm returning to base to review surveillance."

The Imperials rushed back the way they had come as a young woman burst through the crowd, panting. "Found you!" she wheezed.

The droid stirred at the young woman's voice, leaping suddenly out of Abero's hands to race to it's master's side. Weram pulled her hood aside as she crouched down to fuss over her droid.

Abero stared open-mouthed at the sight of the young woman. He shook himself and started toward her wearing his most dashing smile. "So it's your droid, huh? You're lucky I was here to rescue it from those Imperials."

"Oh, is that how it happened?" D'nia erupted, incredulous.

Abero waved her off dismissively, already warming to his best subject, himself. "You know, miss-"

"Weram," the young woman supplied, offering a hand in greeting.

"Miss Weram," he continued as he took her hand in his, "the Phornan frontier can be a dangerous place for offworlders. Guess you're doubly lucky that Abero Kaine, gentleman adventurer, is available to escort you."

D'nia suppressed her gag reflex as the young lady beamed at Abero. She couldn't believe the girl was buying this, surely no one was that gullible.

"Hey, Weram, right?" D'nia called.

Weram turned to D'nia and nodded affirmation.

"Take this with you," D'nia said, tossing Weram the tracking chit. "For, uhh, luck."

"I thought I was doubly lucky already," Weram gestured to her new companion, eyes glinting mischievously.

D'nia smiled, perhaps there was hope for her after all. Still.

"A little more luck can't hurt."

* * *

After they were out of sight, D'nia went about checking her skiff. Wouldn't do to find out it had been damaged by the droid or that rancor-fisted oaf _while_ she was flying it. She bent low to inspect the hull of her craft when she spotted them.

Gleaming in the early morning light were over a dozen thermal detonators.

Stamped with the insignia of the Empire.


	4. Chapter 3

"There I was, surrounded by a dozen angry Grawshin tribesmen, their spears bristling."

Abero gestured to his audience for emphasis. His audience, Weram and the sneering Bith merchant she was haggling with, was attempting futilely to ignore him.

"My hands bound, blaster's power cell fried, I spat in the face of certain death."

The Bith groaned a reply in his own musical language, tossing several more ration packs onto the pile Weram had already paid for. He made a shooing gesture at Weram and Abero, tooting angrily about the wide berth other shoppers were giving the big man.

Weram bowed in thanks and tried to affect an apologetic expression. The expression changed into a sly smile as she turned away. Though Abero was a tiresome blowhard, she had gotten a four power cells for half price, a second tent, and now several extra ration packs all for the price of removing Abero from the shopkeepers' presence.

Now there was just one more thing to get.

"That's it for supplies," Weram said, "don't suppose you have a speeder?"

Abero sputtered midsentence, "-ust, ah no. But I know a guy! Come on!" Abero rushed away from the bazaar, leaving Weram to carry her new burdens.

* * *

D'nia's skiff glided past the outskirts of Hon Manowa. The morning sun shone on the buildings, shimmering like flowing water as she sped past. She cut the throttle as she neared a decrepit structure, an amalgam of weathered stonework reinforced with more modern salvaged materials.

Her home.

D'nia leaped from the skiff and ran along side, a well practiced maneuver, guiding it into it's resting place as it lost momentum.

The dry dustiness of the place assaulted D'nia's nostrils as she entered, the evidence of her infrequent residency an unwelcome reminder that being here means she isn't getting paid.

_So why are you going to track that oaf and his new friend for free?_ she teased herself. She shrugged her pack onto the floor and knelt to open it.

_Because that fool will likely get himself killed, and his body might be worth a drink or two to the right people._ D'nia smiled sardonically as she began filling the pack with supplies for an expedition.

_Or it might attract the attention of the wrong people_, she considered. _Probably owes someone money_.

She cinched her pack closed and shouldered it once more, but paused in the act of standing. Something wasn't right. She scanned the room, looking for something out-of-place. As she turned her head her attention was drawn to a low alcove set into one wall. She walked over to it and regarded a wooden box, glass lid askew. D'nia set the lid aside and withdrew a beaded shawl from within, handling it reverently.

Her father had made it for her mother as a wedding gift. D'nia closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the glass beads her father had painstakingly sewn into the shawl beneath her fingers. She could see her mother's reassuring smile in her mind's eye. Her mother had only worn this shawl on festival days until her father passed. Then she wore it almost every day. She'd been wearing it the day she was taken.

D'nia held her mother's shawl a moment more, remembering, then placed it back in the wooden box. She slid the lid back in place, then lifted the box entirely, revealing the hollow that it concealed. D'nia reached down into this hollow, her fingers brushing the empty bottom of the space. She then pressed down and twisted, drawing up the false bottom as she withdrew her hand. There, wrapped in cloth lay a cylindrical object. Her fingers closed around the object and-

D'nia's vision suddenly swam.

She heard her brother call out.

She saw her mother run outside, letting the shawl fall to the ground.

The sound of the Imperial transport that took them away.

The agent's clipped accent saying the word "reeducation."

The stone walls of a cave illuminated by amber light.

Tattered brown robes now empty, seen through the blur of tears.

Her brother's hand holding a pendant, now joined by a hand with bright pink skin holding a similar pendant.

Both pendants emblazoned with a starred sword with feathered wings.

Then blackness.

* * *

An ambulatory stack of various items wended it's way down the avenues of Hon Manowa, trailing after Weram and Abero. P-0 straightened to reorient itself, it's burden leaning precariously, then continued in the direction of it's master. Weram finally caught up with Abero as he approached a building with a wide, yawning entrance.

P-0 followed her and Abero through the open doorway into a darkened room. A large round counter dominated the room's center. Tables and booths littered the dimly lit space, all empty save one, where a massive Trandoshan dozed, startling Weram with a loud, rasping snore.

"We are not yet open," a gruff voice snaked from behind the large counter. "Come back later."

"We're not here to drink this time, Yansk," Abero replied.

The top of a scaled head and two large yellow eyes rose from below the counter. "You!" Yansk hissed, "You should not be here! Go away!"

"Is that any way to greet the man that saved your life?" Abero grinned.

Yansk made his way from around the counter waving an accusatory claw at Abero, who was half again the diminutive Trandoshan's height.

"Yes, saved me from a lorkrok that you woke trying to escape the Grawshin warband."

Weram raised an eyebrow. _He was serious about that?_

"A fact," Yansk continued, "Reesha and I would be more grateful for if you didn't rub our snouts in it every time you come here."

"Reesha?" Abero said, indicating the hulking form in the booth. "Oh come on, Yansk, your sister loves me!"

Reesha had risen at the mention of her name, her yellow eyes boring into Abero's back while a feral grin spread across her reptilian lips.

"You mistake," Yansk said. "My sister wishes to eat you."

Abero shrugged. "What can I say, I have that effect on women," he said, winking at Weram.

Weram looked from Abero to Reesha, who had not moved except to widen her grin, which now showed far too many teeth for cordiality.

Yansk began to amble back to his counter. "Tell me what it is you want or be gone from here, Abero."

"I, uh, need your speeder," he said.

"No. Good bye," Yansk blurted.

"Not permanently," Abero pleaded. "Just for a while, and afterwards we're even."

Yansk stopped in his tracks, turning to eye the big man.

"You mean, we are done after this? No more free drinks? You stay out of my place? Hmm?"

"Deal!" Abero agreed quickly.

"Fine." Yansk retrieved a key card from a pocket and handed it to Abero.

"Bring it back in one piece, or _you_ will owe _me_, and I will send Reesha to collect."

Abero accepted the key card, nodding solemnly.

Reesha ran her forked tongue over her lips, her eyes glinting.

* * *

D'nia pushed herself off the floor, arms shaking, mouth dry. Her head throbbed. She opened her eyes and winced, blinking at the too-bright sunlight that filled the room.

_Sunlight! The time!_

D'nia scrambled for her datapad and accessed her tracker. A holographic map appeared before her, a blinking red dot indicating that her tracker had left the city and was moving at speed toward the highland coast.

D'nia turned and glared at the lightsaber that had rolled free of her hand and lay near her pack. She snatched it up and walked back over to the alcove. Shaking her head to clear the memory of her vision, she stood a moment holding the lightsaber, considering.

Then she straightened the box with her mother's shawl, re-covering the hollow.

She returned to her pack and placed the lightsaber inside.

Realization had dawned on D'nia.

_No way that girl is a prospector_.

D'nia checked the projection from her datapad again, then stowed it away.

_And there's no way she's heading that direction looking for spice._

Pack once again on her shoulder, D'nia left the house and fired her skiff's engines.

_She's looking for trouble._


	5. chapter 4

The gaudiest speeder in the galaxy screamed away from the city of Hon Manowa at terrifying speeds.

"WOOOOOHAAAA!" Abero practically stood in the craft, jubilant cry exploding from his childlike grin.

Weram clutched at her seat, teeth gritted as the speeder sliced through the air.

The level expanse of the Manowa prairie had given way to rolling hills as the two traveled north, a vast column of dust still rising in the powerful machine's wake. The sun had nearly reached it's zenith, finally banishing the sullen red light of Phorna Prime, at least for a few hours.

"This thing can really move, huh!" Abero said. "Barely two hours out of the city and we're already in the foothills! We'll be in the Honwa Highlands before you..." Abero trailed off.

In the noonday sun Yansk's craft suddenly transformed. The garish colors burst with fiery opalescence, gleaming like a gem. Weram raised an eyebrow appreciatively.

"Guess that's why he calls it the _Sun_ _Devil_," Abero remarked.

* * *

The two rode in silence for a time. The brilliance of the light reflected from the speeder had cast a spell over it's passengers as the distance passed. Finally the sun passed some critical point, returning the _Sun Devil_ to it's previous garish appearance as the first of the spires of the Honwa Highlands came into view.

Some long-ago tectonic event had caused the sea floor to rise out of the water, taking a veritable forest of ocean rock formations and lifting them into the sky. Though eons of rain and wind had weathered most of the spires smooth they towered over the landscape, casting much of the rugged terrain into shadow. The Highlands ended to the east in a great sea cliff, while to the west a great escarpment rose from the ascending ground, an ancient cliff formed by the ocean.

The mist from the sea combined with the shadows cast by the spires, shrouding the Honwa Highlands in a gloom that even the afternoon sun could not dispel. The pulsing orb of Phorna Prime penetrated the mist perfectly, however, casting a bloody pall over everything.

Abero cut the throttle to the _Sun Devil_ as they entered the mist. The two were soaked in short order and their moods dampened to match. The quiet between them changed from companionable to sullen.

"So what exactly are you looking for in here?" Abero asked, finally breaking the silence.

"My father," Weram said simply.

Abero filled the silence again, "Not to ground your launchpad, but I don't think he's there."

"And why do you think that?" Weram's voice dangerously devoid of emotion.

"Hon Manowa is the only spaceport on Phorna, see?" Abero continued, oblivious to the girl's ire. "And I think I would have heard about it if a big pink guy passed through."

Weram blinked a few times. Whatever she'd been prepared to hear, it wasn't that. She laughed helplessly, the tension melting out of her.

"My dad's not pink!" She exclaimed, still laughing. "I take after my mom, thankfully."

Abero grinned sheepishly. "What makes you think he's here, then?"

"I'm not sure he's still here, but he's been here," Weram said, reaching beneath her shirt and withdrawing a pair of pendants. She held one up for Abero to see.

"My dad found this in the Temple of Eedit, the Jedi temple on Devaron, my homeworld."

Abero glanced at the pendant. It was made of a dark metal, iron or pewter maybe. In it's center was the winged lightsaber of the Jedi order.

"My dad gave it to me when I was little," she continued.

"He was a Jedi?" Abero asked.

"No," said Weram, smiling, "but my people revere the Jedi. Dad always told me stories about the knights, protecting the weak, serving justice. That even though the temple was empty after the Clone Wars, the Jedi were out there. I loved those stories."

Weram looked down at her hands and swallowed before going on. "Dad told me a time was coming when we would need to remember what they stood for. That's when he gave me this. It was the last time I saw him. He heard the Imperials were coming to tear down the temple, so he went inside to save whatever he could."

"And the Imperials found him?" Abero guessed.

"No," Weram replied, "the Imperials didn't even bother to land. They destroyed the temple from orbit and moved on," Weram practically spat.

"I'm sorry Weram," Abero said, laying a hand on her arm.

Weram smiled at him reassuringly. "That's not the end of the story. A year ago I got a package that came from Phorna containing this." She held the other pendant up. Though it was a different metal, it was undeniably the same symbol.

"It came with a note that just said 'Remember.' It was my dad's handwriting.

He's alive. And he was here."

* * *

The two rode on in silence once again. Mist rolled by in waves, soaking them anew each time. Conditions were definitely not improving, but Weram was suffused with an inner fire now that the mist could not extinguish. She retrieved her datapad from her pack and pulled up a map of the area.

"There should be a low structure off to our left a bit," Weram directed.

Abero adjusted the _Sun Devil's_ course. "So how do you know where to look if you've never been here?"

"I pestered the guy that delivered the package. He said the guy that had him deliver it had come in from this way, near the coast. These are the only structures in the area visible from orbital scans. Seems like the best place to start."

Abero nodded to himself as the structure came into view. The building was low and flat. Made from the same limestone as the massive spires it almost blended into the landscape, aided by the ever-present sea mists. A yawning opening served as a door, big enough for several banthas to walk through abreast.

Abero brought the _Sun Devil_ alongside the building and powered it down. Weram donned goggles retrieved from her pack and activated P-0.

"Showtime, buddy," Weram told the droid." P-0 dusted himself off and stretched dramatically, even pantomiming a yawn.

"Enough joking around, P-0. You're taking point. Get in there and run those scanners. It's your job to warn us if there's trouble." Weram cinched her pack closed and strapped it on.

"Or if you find something interesting."

P-0 gave a mock salute and scampered toward the building, disappearing from view as the gaping entrance swallowed him.

Weram and Abero followed a few moments later.

* * *

Not long after two bulky transports arrived in front of the stone building. A uniformed Imperial stepped out of the first transport as Stormtroopers boiled out of the other and assembled themselves in formation.

"Disable that speeder, then secure the entrance," the Imperial ordered.

The troopers saluted their commander before rushing off obediently. The Imperial commander smiled sharply.

"Looks like the old flytrap caught something again," he said to himself. He held up a small round object in the wan afternoon light. It looked almost like a coin.

Or a medallion.

"Just have to use the right bait."

Clearly stamped on the medallion was the insignia of the Jedi Order.


	6. Chapter 5

A great plume of dust rose over the hills north of the Manowa prairie. D'nia steered her skiff within the swirling cloud of dirt and debris. She wasn't sure if it was the girl or the oaf that didn't care if they were followed, but D'nia wasn't nearly so careless. At least not after the first coughing fit had forced her to stop to protect her face. She'd ruefully wrapped her head and face in the canvas tarp she used as her stall's sunshade. Thus protected, she continued north, position obscured by the dust, worrying what damage it was doing to her skiff's engines.

The skiff continued to follow the trail left by Weram and Abero, tracking steadily northward. The engines guttered for a moment as it entered the highland mist before coughing out several chunks of steaming mud. D'nia blinked a few times at this development.

Cleared of debris from the intake the engines once again breathed healthy. D'nia shrugged. She hit the accelerator and continued her journey.

The display on her skiff showed the trackers position just Northwest of her. Her macrobinoculars were useless in the mist so she throttled the skiff down, straining to hear sign of her quarry without alerting them.

There, quietly in the mist, she drifted.

The sound of blaster fire, far too close for comfort, startled D'nia into action. She mashed the accelerator wide open and sped toward the source of the sound, hoping to arrive before Abero hurt himself or anyone else.

As she closed in on the tracker's position she heard what was clearly Abero's voice shout, "STOP SHOOTING! THIS SPEEDER ISN'T EVEN MINE!"

D'nia had no time to ponder the many possible reasons someone might want to shoot at Abero, as her approach caused the blaster fire to turn in her direction. Swerving to avoid being hit D'nia finally got a look at the whole scene.

In front of a low building with a wide entrance, Stormtroopers were firing at Abero, who was trying and failing to escape in a speeder that looked like a child's drawing come to life. Two other Stormtroopers and an Imperial commander were now firing at her skiff. The pink-skinned girl was taking D'nia's sudden appearance as opportunity to break away from her captors and run for the trooper that was holding their supplies.

D'nia flew the skiff around the side of the building and turned around. She began to wonder what Abero could possibly have done to earn the ire of an Imperial Stormtrooper squad when something _thunked_ into the back of her skiff. A DUM series droid waved at her as she flew back toward the melee. He grabbed a shiny object and _threw_, aiming it toward one of the Imperial transports. She reached for the droid, until she realized what he had thrown. D'nia _wrenched_ the skiff away and ducked as an explosion consumed the transport and threw everyone from their feet.

D'nia hurried to put the skiff between the Stormtroopers and Weram. The Devaronian girl struggled to her feet and tossed her her bag into the skiff along with the lone Stormtrooper's blaster. She noticed the droid in the skiff as she climbed aboard.

"Great work,P-0! You really saved our skins," Weram praised.

P-0 took a sweeping bow, but tipped onto his head as the skiff lurched forward.

"We have to turn around and grab Abero," said Weram.

"Have to?" D'nia complained.

"The Imperials will interrogate him if we leave!" Weram pleaded.

_Ughhh_ D'nia sighed heavily and whipped the skiff around.

Weram took aim with the Stormtrooper's blaster and started shooting, sending the troopers near Abero diving for cover.

"Get in!" Weram shouted, as D'nia pulled the skiff up to the speeder.

"I can't leave this here! I have to bring it back!" Abero yelled.

"It's not moving. Unless you want to be not moving too, get in!" D'nia said, grasping hold of Abero's shirt and hauling him into the skiff.

The skiff lurched back into motion as D'nia accelerated past the Stormtroopers.

"After them!" the Commander shouted.

Three troopers climbed aboard the second transport and took off in pursuit. The remaining troopers formed up and began firing on the skiff.

"A little help here!" Weram screamed. She braced herself in the rear of the skiff and returned fire.

"With what!?" Abero searched frantically.

"My rifle is under the left side storage panel," D'nia said. Abero dove to the skiff's floor and retrieved the weapon. He kneeled and fired toward the transport. A loud bang sounded as the barrel crackled with energy, sending a projectile speeding towards the Imperial transport.

Where it bounced off the armor panels harmlessly.

"What is this, an antique!?" Abero yelled.

"It's a slugthrower," D'nia replied.

"Why don't you have a blaster like a normal person!?" Abero said incredulously.

"You don't have a blaster either, genius!" D'nia retorted. "Besides, I don't usually do stupid things like antagonize lorkroks or the Imperial Legion!"

While the two argued, P-0 mounted the rear hull of the skiff. He raised an arm toward the troopers and the pursuing transport, like he was taking aim. Then he beeped twice, pointing in a mock shooting gesture.

Two more explosions erupted, completely destroying the transport and Yansk's speeder and throwing the remaining troopers to the ground.

"Yes!" Weram cheered. "P-0, you are awesome!"

P-0 held his hand up to his optic sensor and whirred, as if blowing the "smoke" away from the barrel of his "gun."

D'nia looked at him and Weram, more than a little horrified.

The blood had drained from Abero's face, leaving him ashen and sweaty.

"I'm dead. Yansk is gonna let Reesha kill me."

"Yansk? Reesha?" D'nia asked. "That was his speeder?" Abero nodded piteously.

"I thought Reesha liked you?"

"Yansk said she just wants to eat him," Weram offered.

"Ah, that makes sense," D'nia replied. "He has that effect on women."

* * *

Imperial Commander Dars struggled to his feet. "TK-2790, report."

A nearby Stormtrooper stood and saluted. "Three troopers were in the explosion, TK-5656 is surveying the wreckage for survivors. All other units are present and accounted for."

"Except our prey escaped and we have no transport," Commander Dars grated.

"Yes commander," the trooper agreed. "I've already signaled to base for replacement and reinforcements."

Commander Dars nooded, still seething.

TK-2790 continued, "Should I report to the in-"

"You leave those _mystics_ out of this!" The Commander erupted. "_I_ will resolve this without their meddling for once! Is that clear!?"

"Understood sir," the trooper said, saluting again.

* * *

Two red orbs hung low in the sky over Hon Manowa. As the first of the regulars walked in, Yansk sat heavily next to his sister.

"Almost sundown," Reesha observed.

Yansk rumbled his agreement.

"You know you're never going to see that speeder again," Reesha continued.

Yansk rumbled agreement again.

"So what's your problem?" she inquired. "It is over now. You were never going to find a buyer for that speeder. It was hideous."

Yansk nodded, not looking at his sister.

"And Abero will be too busy hiding from me to bother you here, just like you said. Shame too." Reesha closed her eyes and inhaled deeply through her about. "He always smells so... Delicious."

"You are incorrigible," said Yansk, rolling his eyes.

"_Incorrige_ me then," said Reesha, with a rasping chuckle.

Yansk groaned, the sound like gravel. "I wasn't trying to get the boy lost."

It was Reesha's turn to eye her sibling.

"He already was lost.

But he came in today with fire in his eyes again," the Trandoshan continued. "Sure he was a nuisance, but he has potential. He should want more for himself than what he can grasp without effort."

"You wish for me to help him," it was a statement, not a question.

Yansk let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Yes."

"Then I will go, brother. Do not worry." Reesha stood, but paused at the exit, grinning suddenly. "And I'll be gentle when I have my way with him."

"See that you are!" Yansk rasped as she walked away.

"And be safe, sister."


	7. Chapter 6

Reesha made her way out of the city, heading north. The hulking Trandoshan rode at a stately, almost sedate pace, straddling a speeder bike that was clearly not made for someone of her stature. It had been cheap, though, and light enough to hoist by hand, at least for her.

Reesha had asked around for Abero and his pink friend, but she soon discovered she need not have bothered. The pair had left a trail wide enough for a GONK droid to follow. Reesha clicked her tongue at the clear display of carelessness. There was a reason she tuned her bike to hover so high. Hover trails like these are unmistakable through the tall grasses of the Manowa prairie.

The upbraiding Reesha was mentally composing for Abero was interrupted by a loud noise. The bike drifted to a stop as she searched for the source of the unmistakable screech.

There, near the northern horizon she spotted them.

TIE fighters. Four of them, flying a reconnaissance formation.

Doubtless the TIEs hunted the same quarry Reesha herself did. She began to wonder what Abero had gotten himself mixed up with when she noticed the ground.

A second hover trail joined Abero's near to where she had stopped. _Apparently the boy is more popular than I thought, _she thought. The trail was faint, imperceptible to anyone less skilled. And it disappeared entirely within Abero's wider track. The work of a patient and skilled hunter.

But the Empire was the more immediate concern. The TIEs flying in recon formation meant they hadn't found him yet. And the Imperial fighters were anything but circumspect. With speed, Reesha would find her quarry before the Imperials did. Hopefully she would be prepared for whoever else had found him. She stood up beside the speeder bike and lifted the seat, removing a modified blaster rifle that nevertheless appeared toylike in the Trandoshan woman's hand. _Good thing I am always so careful, _she thought, as she strapped the massive weapon into a hip holster.

Reesha remounted her bike and sped northwest, abandoning any attempts at stealth.

But as she accelerated, she couldn't help thinking,

_I have a bad feeling about this._

* * *

"Oh great, now there's TIE fighters after us!" Abero groused.

D'nia looked over her shoulder briefly. She heard the TIEs, but could only see them by the light from their engines. The mist obscured all else. Hopefully it worked the other way around. D'nia veered the skiff southwest and accelerated.

"Where are we going?" Weram and Abero asked almost in unison.

"I know a place we can lay low for a bit if we can get there without being seen," D'nia answered.

"Wait, we?" Abero asked. "You're coming with us?"

"I don't have a choice. All of us are fugitives now, no thanks to you." D'nia snapped.

Weram's gaze swept from D'nia to the sky behind them, the lights from the TIE fighters' engines faintly winking in the distance. Finally her eyes settled on the floor of the skiff.

"You can't blame us, D'nia!" Abero bulled ahead. "We didn't ask for help!"

D'nia spared a moment to look sharply at Abero.

"Not that we aren't grateful, of course!" He added hastily.

Placated, D'nia returned her attention to steering the craft.

"Yes, thank you for saving us," Weram muttered. She was still for a long moment, eyes still fixed on nothing in particular. A long moment became several long moments, until she spoke again.

"Why did you do it, though?" She asked.

D'nia thought for a while before answering.

"Honestly?" She paused, choosing her words carefully. "I've seen-"

The roar of a TIE, too near for comfort drowned out her answer. D'nia cut the throttle completely. The group drifted silently in the mist, hoping to avoid discovery.

P-0 was the first to break the silence, whirring indignantly and making a rude gesture at the retreating spacecraft.

"You said it, P-0, this-" Weram and her droid stilled abruptly as a second TIE, nearer still, followed the first. Everyone scarcely breathed until it had passed. D'nia stood from a crouch she didn't realize she'd been in as the TIE flew away.

They all listened for several tense minutes, straining to hear the approach of another craft. D'nia finally judged the two TIEs that had passed by sufficiently distant after another moment and started the skiff moving forward again.

Abero gasped, his face a mask of anxiety. His hand was outstretched to the sky overhead, pointing.

"I don't see any ships-" Weram began.

"Not ships," D'nia pointed out, "Stars. We've reached the end of the mist." She turned to the others.

"We're going to have to make a break for it," D'nia intoned grimly. "I'm going to divert power from the hover cells to the thrusters. We'll be faster, but it's going to be a rough ride."

She looked to each of them. "Weram, I need you as lookout. Keep an eye out for Imperials. Not just in the sky either." Weram nodded seriously.

"Abero, I need you to make sure nothing falls out of this skiff. If we drop something it will lead them right to us, got it?" Abero's eyes widened, but he nodded also.

"Then get ready." D'nia tilted her head upward, listening again for the telltale sound of the searching TIE fighters. She held up a hand then slammed the accelerator down.

The skiff shot forward and immediately sank, it's hull skimming the ground, jarring it's passengers mercilessly. Soon they were free of the mist. The last embers of twilight glowed in an otherwise clear sky, thankfully free of hostile spacecraft.

The highlands soon gave way to scrubland. The land becoming more arid as they headed west. There were few obstacles to hinder their passage, but scant cover. D'nia gunned the throttle, rattling her passengers terribly.

D'nia had just caught sight of the abandoned settlement she was heading for when Weram called out.

"Something is coming towards us from the south!"

Sure enough, a lone vehicle was headed straight toward them. No way they hadn't been spotted. Flying flat out they had almost reached the settlement when P-0 began beeping excitedly.

"You recognize them?" Weram said incredulously.

D'nia let the skiff skid to a stop in front of the building, a settlement that had obviously not seen use for some time. Abero was already holding D'nia's slugthrower, taking aim. D'nia had reached into her bag and was nervously fingering the lightsaber.

Weram had found D'nia's macrobinoculars and spied the approaching vehicle.

"Don't shoot!" she exclaimed. " P-0 was right! It's not the Empire!"

D'nia heaved a sigh of relief. She put her bag down in the skiff.

"I think it's the big lizard woman from the bar," Weram continued.

Abero groaned miserably.


	8. Chapter 7

A pink-tinged moon began to crest Phorna's horizon. The reflected light from Phorna Prime commingled with the moonlight in a way that was far less sickly than it was with the sun. The old homestead was suffused with a dreamlike stillness, made more ethereal by the ghostly moonlight.

Weram, therefore, felt not the least bit self-conscious at pinching herself when she saw the lizard woman ride up on a toy speeder-bike.

Realization dawned on her as the lizard woman _continued _to ride closer, looming far larger than Weram remembered from the cantina. Reesha dismounted her speeder-bike with nexu-like grace and crossed the remaining distance to the homestead in a few long strides. Reesha spoke, her voice both a rumbling resonance and delicate whisper.

"I should have known you would find them first, Little Hunter. Good to see you again. It has been too long."

Reesha's eyes seemed to look everywhere at once, boring into each of them. Weram pinched herself again as her brain tried to catch up with what the giant had said. Abero too seemed at a loss, whatever careful explanation he'd been concocting discarded. They were saved from having to reply by D'nia, who ran up to Reesha and hugged her warmly.

"It's good to see you too, Reesha. It *has* been too long."

D'nia released the Trandoshan and turned back toward the settlement when she saw her companions' faces.

"What?!" Before Abero or Weram could respond D'nia waved them off. "Nevermind, just help me get this stuff inside. Then we _all_ have some explaining to do."

* * *

They went about the tasks of making camp in silence. Though the TIE fighters patrolling for them were too far away to hear, the awareness of pursuit still loomed large in everyone's minds. By unspoken agreement no lights were lit, no equipment was stowed carelessly, and all speech was made in terse whispers. Once their presence was concealed to all but the most rigorous inspection, the company entered the ruined house.

Dirt suffused the old homestead like a time capsule with a failed seal. Dust and sand were given wings by the party's sudden intrusion, and Weram stifled the urge to sneeze. Abero was less fortunate and sneezed full-force, covering himself in dust. He patted his head frantically trying to get it out of his hair but succeeded only in making himself sneeze again. Weram laughed quietly to herself, but even that furtive sound was chased away by a low rumble from Reesha.

"I believe D'nia said something about explanations."

"I don't mind waiting until Abero is done with his dust-bath." D'nia quipped.

Abero froze in the act of smearing his jacket with dust and folded his hands sheepishly. Together he and Weram recounted their journey from Yansk's cantina to the highland ruins, their capture, being rescued by D'nia, and their flight to the homestead.

"So obviously what happened to the _Sun Devil_ isn't my fault at all!" Abero concluded triumphantly. Weram's eyes actually began to ache a little from the strain of how hard she was rolling them. As she returned her eyes to the conversation, D'nia caught her attention with a plaintive gesture, as if to say _S__ee? He's always like this!_ Weram winced and nodded in agreement. Reesha surprised them both.

"I agree. Perhaps your path to the highlands was not cautious, but you could not have known what lay in wait there. I am sure my brother bears you no ill will."

"So I'm free to go?" Abero ventured hopefully.

"Of course not!" Reesha chided. "You and that girl are fugitives now."

"But if we split up," Abero began.

"The hunter eats well when the prey scatters," D'nia finished. Weram found her mouth suddenly dry. _Hunters? Prey?_ What _am I doing?_ Reesha nodded her approval as D'nia continued, "We'll be easier to capture if we go off on our own."

"But you could." Weram found herself saying. "Maybe they saw your skiff, but not your face. You could go. I didn't mean to get you into this."

"And leave you to your fates?" D'nia replied. "Even Abero doesn't deserve that." D'nia spared Abero a glance to quell any response to her jibe, but the big man's eyes remained on the floor, seeing something a thousand parsecs away.

"I too will lend my aid, for as long as you will accept it," Reesha added, her voice recapturing Weram and D'nia's attention.

"Not that I'm ungrateful," Weram began, the words thick in her mouth, "but why? Why are you helping me?"

The room was still for a moment save for the turning of minds and the winding of dust in the moonlight. Weram began to fear she had asked exactly the wrong question. A group of strangers that owed her nothing endangering their lives for her sake? It was unheard of, especially with the Empire involved. _If you see something, say something_ was the more usual course of action. People would sell their own family to stay safe from the Stormtroopers. No one stuck their neck out. No one risked the ire of the Empire, let alone to help some _offworlder_ with Jedi contraband.

D'nia finally spoke, and sent those thoughts spinning away. "Because the Empire has taken enough. From me. From everyone. I don't intend to give them anything else."

* * *

The Phorna Imperial command post thrummed with activity like a hornet nest. One that had just been given a vigorous shake. The building rose in crisp lines from the plains, a stunted obelisk all darkened synthcrete and transparisteel. Ground transports and TIE fighters buzzed about with urgency, and even the most jaded spacers and prospectors gave the already imposing structure a wide berth.

Imperial Commander Liam Dars massaged his temples as he disembarked his shuttle and entered the building.

A uniformed officer snapped a hasty salute. "Welcome back, Commander."

"Report," Dars replied tersely.

"The TIE squadron is still searching, but the mist..." the officer paled at the look Dars gave him.

"We shall redouble our efforts!" the officer said quickly, following closely as Commander Dars strode purposefully to the lift.

"Round the clock patrols, Captain. TIEs and ground squads. The highlands and the surrounding area. Did we get ident scans on the captives?"

"Yes, Commander. Abero Kaine, a local drifter, and Weram Vaiir, looks like she's a runaway from Devaron."

"Very good, any idea on their rescuer?"

"Apologies, Commander," the Captain winced. "No scan, but the transports' visual sensors got a couple of images before the detonations."

"Better than nothing. Circulate those images on the holonet, and form a squad to search the city. One of these local scum is bound to know something. Anything on the vehicles?"

"Nothing on the getaway vehicle. It appears to have been just a repulsorlift with an engine bolted onto it. No registration at all. The vehicle we disabled was registered, however, to a Yansk Bakgamnan."

Dars entered the lift and turned to his subordinate. "Then pay him a visit."

The lift doors were closing as the Captain quickly added, "That reminds me, you have a visitor in your office."

The lift doors hissed closed, leaving Commander Dars to fume silently. _In my office!?_

The doors opened as the lift reached the top of the command post, revealing Commander Dars office which claimed the entire top floor.

"Wonderful accommodations you have secured yourself, Commander. I hope you will pardon my intrusion."

The speaker turned to face Dars, revealing a pale visage with burning yellow eyes.

"Hardly an intrusion, Grand Inquisitor," Dars replied through gritted teeth as he exited the lift.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

"It's come to my attention that your little 'flytrap' as you call it--has sprung, and failed. Again." The Inquisitor stood from the commander's desk and approached him.

"So I came to offer my assistance. I hope you haven't allowed another Jedi sympathizer to escape your grasp."

"Of course not, Grand Inquisitor, merely scum, smuggling stolen explosives. They and our cargo will soon be back in our hands."

"See that they are, Commander." The Inquisitor's eyes bore into Commander Dars. "I would hate to inform Lord Vader otherwise."


End file.
